


A Moment in Time

by 4catwoman23



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:23:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4catwoman23/pseuds/4catwoman23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes about our favorite Warehouse 13 agents. Heavy on Bering and Wells. If F/F is not your thing, that's really too bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Are They or Aren't They

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Infringement is not intended, if you think I am infringing just send me a cease and desist email.
> 
> I'll clean my room and return my toys to their proper place when I'm done.

“Are they or aren’t they?” Claudia asked Steve.

“Are who what or not?” He replied, confused.

Claudia gestured across the Warehouse office, where H.G. and Myka were bickering over where to file a notecard. The taller agent was holding the card up over the older woman’s head just out of her reach and saying something about, “You’re the agent under me and have to do what I say.”

“Them! Myka and H.G. Do you think they’re you know… “ She waggled her eyebrows up and down.

Steve looked at the pair. H.G. was standing with her hands on her hips. He could hear her say, “Darling, if I were the agent under you, I very much doubt I’d be doing anything but exactly what you say.”

He cleared his throat, “Well, I don’t think it’s any of our business if they are or not.”

The redhead turned and looked incredulously at him, “Of course it’s our business! They’re our family. We want our family to be happy, right?” 

“Yeah sure, but it’s really nothing we should get involved in.”

“Can’t you, you know, use your gaydar or something? Just tell me if Myka is Helena’s toaster oven or not?”

He looked back toward the women. Myka was blushing furiously and H.G. looked supremely satisfied. She held the notecard in her hand with her gaze locked on the taller agents face. 

“You do know that I can only detect lies and not if someone is gay, right?” Steve’s blue eyes looked earnestly at her. “Besides, I think H.G. has a full set of kitchen appliances by now. That woman could charm the pants off of Ann Coulter if she set her mind to it.”

The computer tech choked on her laughter. “That’s a visual I really didn’t need!”

Steve just grinned and returned to his work.


	2. Dish Duty

“Helena, this is why we don’t put liquid dish soap in the dishwasher.” Laughter followed the statement, Myka's green eyes dancing.

“Well, how was I to know that dish soap was not to be used for washing the dishes? Is this another instance of circular reasoning that I’m supposed to have learned?” Her voice increased an octave as she gestured wildly with her hands, “Why would it be labeled dish soap if it’s not to be used to wash the dishes?” 

It was hard to take anything the Brit said seriously when she was covered in tiny little bubbles. They were everywhere, in her hair and down the front of her shirt, causing it to plaster to her chest. Bubbles covered the floor, and were still oozing out of the open appliance. They had even backed up into the sink. 

Myka removed her hair tie from her own hair, handing it to the other woman, “Use this to get your hair out of your face while we clean this up.” 

She watched as the woman quickly put her damp hair up, reminiscent of the first time they met. She couldn’t help but raise her hand to the other woman’s cheek. She carefully wiped away the bubbles from her face. Her hand froze on Helena’s cheek as they locked eyes. She held her breath as the inventor’s eyes dropped to her lips and as she stepped forward, Myka’s own eyes started to close in anticipation. Suddenly, she felt the other woman’s hands against her and her full weight bearing down on her. Before she knew it, she was laying on the floor with a soft body pressed intimately to hers. 

Helena looked down at the woman cushioning her body. With a devilish gleam in her eye, “Now who’s the agent under whom?”


	3. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Yes, up to and including, Stand. 
> 
> Warnings: Angst, pain, and character death. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Infringement is not intended, if you think I am infringing just send me a cease and desist email.

Inspired by  
Bleeding Out, by Imagine Dragons

_So I bare my skin_   
_And I count my sins_   
_And I close my eyes_   
_And I take it in_   
_And I’m bleeding out_   
_I’m bleeding out for you (for you)_

 

Helena studied the fuse box. She was looking for something, anything that would help them save the warehouse and themselves.

There had to be something here. She told herself to take a deep breath and stay calm. She often did her best work under intense pressure. Wolcott used to say she had, “Deft hands and a sharp mind.” But after the whirlwind of events leading up to this moment, she was having trouble focusing. In the last 48 hours she had resigned herself to dying – a noble act to be sure. Then to thinking she would lose Myka, to a bloody chess game of all things. Then to this moment, trapped in the warehouse with a nuclear device. How would she save them? How would she save Myka?

She could hear the muttering behind her. The voices were indistinct as they tried to disarm the bomb.

She heard Pete declare, “Alright, let me at that thing.” The sound of a blowtorch soon followed.

Closing her eyes she focused her mind and phased everything else out.

A deep breath in… and a slow exhale out.

She was ready.

Opening her eyes she removed the cover from the bottom panel. Inspecting the circuitry, she had an idea. If she took that wire and spliced into it, thereby bypassing this latching relay, it could work. She busied herself with making the quick splice in the wire, her hands steady and sure. This would save them. It would save her.

She had done a lot to this world. Had done a lot for this world. Now she was ready to do one more thing, allow the world to have Myka. She could not imagine a world without Myka in it.

There was a part of her that cried out in pure rage. How dare Sykes take this chance from them! They’d missed their shot time and again, and this would be final there would be no more chances. She had no illusions about her fate. No cavalry would come riding in to save the day. She was the cavalry. She would do this. She had done this.

For Myka.

“And here we go.” She placed the ends of the wires together completing the circuit. The electricity arced in her hands; it split off forming a dome over Pete, Artie, and Myka.

“I’m sorry.” She dropped the wires on the ground. Catching Myka’s eyes she breathlessly continued, “It was the only way I could… think to save you.”

Questions were asked and answered. It was far harder to answer the unspoken questions, the ones in her shimmering green eyes.

The ones that asked, why?

No one else could understand, and she did not have the desire to explain.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

She knew Myka would understand.

She always did.


	4. Boytox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Helena just wants to fit in.

When Myka walked into the living room Claudia was looking at H.G. in alarm. 

“What did you just say?” the redhead asked.

“I simply wanted to know if you were in a boytox phase. Your complexion is positively glowing.” The inventor was looking expectantly at the tech. 

“H.G. dude, why are you asking me this? And where the hell did you learn that word?” Claudia had a suspicious look on her face.

“Is this not the correct usage?” Helena’s forehead crinkled in concern. 

“Hi you two, what are we talking about?” Myka said looking between them. 

“I’m quite sure that was legit.” Helena looked at her, “Darling, Claudia and I were conversing about her lack of dating. I think its done wonders for her skin.” 

Myka rolled her eyes, “Helena, have you been on Urban Dictionary again?” 


	5. Restraint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note: We're in M territory here. 
> 
> Please see a/n at the end.

Helena kept her arms above her head, hands grasping at the headboard. She had always prided herself on her ability to get out of most any type of restraint, often in the quickest way possible. But, this time was different. Never had she been asked to exercise voluntary restraint in such a way. This, by far, was the hardest thing she has done in quite a while. Even keeping away from everyone she ever knew while on the run with the Astrolabe was nothing compared to this challenge, and she dearly loved a challenge.

She arched her back and bit back a moan. A sheen of sweat was covering her body, strands of her hair were sticking to her face, the rest splayed across a pillow, tangled and mussed. Keep your hands above your head. The directions were very clear, yet she struggled to follow them. She wasn’t one to take direction well, but this was Myka. She had a difficult time saying no to anything she asked. 

The second part of the instruction was posing just as great a challenge. Don’t make a sound. Really? Keep quiet while she was doing that? She had never realized the sadistic side Myka had. She had hidden it well under her somewhat shy exterior and charming smile. The look in her eye as she firmly told Helena, "keep your hands above your head and don’t make a sound" was predatory. Helena felt the desire pool in her belly with that look. Oh yes, she’d do anything Myka asked. 

A soft nip to her right hip brought her attention back to the reason she was in this position. Myka was gently reminding her to stay in the present, with her. 

The sensations intensified, causing soft whimpers to escape her lips. She risked a look down her body, past her heaving chest to where Myka lay. Green eyes darkened with desire and sparkling with hunger were gazing back. Her thighs started to quiver as Myka skimmed her hand up her body, over her abdomen, and between the valley of her breasts, before settling a single finger over her lips. “Shhhh.” She whispered. “I know you can do this.” 

Helena kissed the pad of the finger before she bowed her neck, throwing her chin back as pleasure overwhelmed her. Clenching tightly to the headboard and digging her heels into the bed, her body was tight as a bowstring as she arched off the bed. Biting hard on her bottom lip she barely made a sound as she allowed the pleasure to flow through her body. 

Collapsing back on the bed with arms and legs like jelly, she waited for the muffling in her ears to abate as she gasped for breath. Myka had slid up her body, where she lay on her side, chasing the beads of sweat across Helena’s torso with her finger. As sound slowly returned, and Helena could finally move, she brought her arms down and hugged the other woman tightly to her body. “Darling, I rather enjoyed this.” She said, expelling a large breath.

A smirk lifting her lips Myka said, “I knew my little volcano could have a silent eruption.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N – The last line is a shout out to Riley2002. She graciously allowed me to use the term "little volcano" from her fic, Drama, Drama, Drama.


	6. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has some downtime. It's time to introduce our lovely inventor to some good ol' British film.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I know movie nights have been written several times in several ways, I just couldn't help adding one more.

Helena was in the kitchen preparing a glass of wine for her and Myka when Claudia came bounding up behind her. The hacker was bouncing in place, her excitement was causing her to nearly vibrate. Her eyes were sparkling and a huge grin stretched ear to ear.

“I can’t _wait_ H.G. You’re going to _love_ this movie!” She was speaking so quickly her words came tumbling out.

“Have you been in Myka’s twizzlers again?” Helena asked her, thinking it must be sugar overload causing the girls palpable excitement.

“Nope, I just know you’ll get this movie! I thought of you when I picked it out. British humor and all.” The last said in a poor imitation of a snooty British accent.

“You need help in here?” Myka said, sidling up behind Helena. “Hey, Claud,” she greeted.

Helena turned and handed the glass of Côtes du Rhône to the woman, smiling softly in greeting. “Miss Donovan was imparting how much I will like this film. “

“You will!” Claudia reaffirmed, “let’s go.”

Ten minutes later everyone were situating themselves comfortably in the living room.

Helena looked around the room. Myka had her stash of twizzlers in her lap. She was sitting just far enough away to prevent Helena from reaching over to steal a piece. She’d have to rectify that as soon as the lights dimmed.

Pete was in the recliner and had surrounded himself with popcorn, nerds (What ever those were), various drinks, and the remote. _Ever the kid_ she thought.

Claudia had taken a space on the floor and was using the coffee table to hold her soda and popcorn.

Artie was out, Helena assumed at the warehouse. He was spending far more time that normal there. She did not allow herself to think why that might be.

That left Leena, she came in bearing a platter of cookies and a small plate. She placed the plate on Pete’s lap and dolled out half a dozen cookies for him. He immediately stuffed three in his mouth, “Shank dou.”

Leena placed the platter on the table and sank into a nearby chair. “Lights.” She said looking at Pete.

He rubbed the crumbs from his hands onto the front of his shirt he clapped them together twice, causing the lights to go off. He hit play on the remote and settled back stuffing popcorn into his mouth at an alarming rate. Helena wondered if the poor boy would choke on a kernel.

After the FBI warning flashed by, something she was told was standard now; soon the opening scene filled the screen.

Rolling green hills and a castle turret appeared. A man dressed in a white tunic with a red stripe bisecting the chest and a large gold crown on his head was speaking to a soldier with a terrible French accent. Another man was behind him making some ridiculous clacking sound. He looked to be using coconut shells of all things.

“What is this?”

“ _Monte Python and the Holy Grail_. It’s a classic.” Claudia spoke without taking her eyes from the screen.

If Pete was already laughing, this was going to be a long night. Well, if she was forced to endure this movie she wanted something out of it. She slipped closer to Myka and stole a piece of her licorice, eliciting a frown from the other woman.

Ninety minutes later the credits were rolling and Helena was still laughing. “Tis but a scratch.” She crowed. “Thank you Claudia, this was a jolly good time.”

“Uh-oh H.G., don’t get all crazy on us now,” the redhead was trying not to laugh.

“It was brilliant!” her said, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I knew you’d like it!”

“I did indeed. Are there more of these movie types?” She asked hopefully.

I think we should start with Ab Fab next.” Myka said. She had watched Helena during the film far more than the movie itself. She found her more entertaining than the on screen antics. She had never seen her look so carefree or _laughing_ as much as she had tonight. Relaxed Helena was not seen much by anyone other that her, and it was a sight to behold. She noticed Pete and Leena trading amused looks.

“Ab Fab, what is this? Is it British comedy as well?”

“ _Absolutely Fabulous_ , it’s a T.V. show that aired in the UK. I’ve got all the EPs on my laptop, I’ll set it up on the ROKU so you can watch it whenever you like.” The tech said as she looked between the women.

“Very well, I’ll be waiting.” Looking at Myka, “Can I take your wine glass?”

“I’ll help you.” Myka took a stack of dishes and headed toward the kitchen. Helena collected the remaining dishes and followed her.

“So, it appears you enjoyed yourself.” Myka said as she started the water running in the sink. “Can you hand me the dish soap?” Looking at the raven-haired woman, she couldn’t contain a smirk.

“You know, Myka” she started, a small grin of her own appearing, “teasing me about the dish soap will get you nowhere.”

“Oh, but Helena, I think it will get me _everywhere._ ”


	7. Personnel Quarters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total crack. Not my best work, but *shrug* it's out there now.

Steve walked in to the Warehouse office and spotting Artie at his desk, headed in his direction.

"Agent Jinks, we have disturbances in the Warehouse, go find out what they are." Without looking up from his computer, he waved a piece of paper in Steve's general direction.

Grabbing the paper, he headed down the Warehouse stairs. Reading the locations on it, it seems he was headed to the maritime section and the personnel quarters archive. He knew better than to ask Artie what he was looking for, but sometimes it would be nice to go into the situation with some sort of idea of what the problem might be.

Walking to the locations gave him time to think. With Claudia off on a short vacation with Fargo, he was spending more time walking the Warehouse floor than ever. He was learning the shortcuts to get where he needed.

He quickly arrived in the maritime section and found the shelf location Artie had given him. It was empty, not that it was unusual for items to not be in their locations. Some do tend to wander off. Looking at the card, this one was only dangerous if you struggled with it. Pulling out his small container of neutralizer - Claudia had created a small dispenser that was about the size of a can of pepper spray – he carefully looked around him.

Nothing looked out of place, but he spent a few minutes inspecting the surrounding shelves making sure they only housed what they should. With everything else in order, he decided to check out the next reported disturbance. He'd let Artie know about this one and then they could decide how to conduct a search for it.

Twenty minutes later he arrived at the doorway to the archive. Looking around he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He donned the required protective gear – hairnet and gloves – seems silly for a man without much hair, but the rules are the rules.

Moving to the keypad he entered the room number Artie had given him, 1866. Oddly the Archive never whirred as it prepared the room, in fact it just beeped at him that it was ready. It seemed as though the room was already queued up. Steve took a last look around before opening the door.

As quickly as he opened the door he closed it. More like slammed it shut. Hard. Twin screams followed his hasty exit.

"Steve!"

"Oh, bollocks!"

He had certainly found the rope from the Mary Celeste. Now that he knew what the "disturbance" was how was he going to explain it to Artie?

Wait, why was he the one that was going to have to explain it? Myka and H.G. were the ones practicing their rope tricks!

He cautiously approached the door and knocking on it he waited. Faint words could be made out through the door. "Bloody… kill him." Followed by, "Nobody… visits… area!"

When the door opened the women had composed themselves and were, thankfully, fully clothed now.

"My dear boy, what can I help you with?" H.G. asked with her smirk firmly in place.

Steve, deciding the better part of valor was discretion, refused to meet Helena's onyx stare. "There were a few disturbances reported in the Warehouse, Artie asked me to check them out."

"What sort of disturbances?" Arching a fine brow, Helena had a look on her face he could not define.

"A, um, he didn't tell me, just told me to look." He squeaked out dropping his eyes to her brown boots. Odd, he could have sworn she had black ones on earlier.

"Well, I can assure you everything is in order." Her firm tone implied his time here was done.

"Okay then, I'll… uh, just head back to the office." Shuffling his feet he started to turn away.

"Take the long way, we wouldn't want Artie to ask unnecessary questions, now would we?"

Steve just kept walking. Some things did not need responses.

 

"Well, darling that could have been worse." The raven-haired writer turned and advanced on Myka, her intent of picking up where they left off clear.

Myka held up her hand, causing Helena to pause. "We need to get back to work, I don't really want to have to explain this anymore than we already have to."

Helena sighed, "I suppose you're right, darling. Care to switch boots now?"

 

A half-hour later, Steve arrived back at the office. Myka and Helena had beaten him and were in a discussion with Artie.

"… Mary Celeste seems to have taken a liking to Myka. We neutralized it and returned it to its shelf." Helena spoke in her smoothest voice.

He looked at Myka, she was busy studying her hands. Even knowing what he knew did not quell the gut reaction that silently screamed, "LIE!"

"Yes well, now that it's resolved, back to work!" Artie returned his attention to his computer.

H.G. turned with a satisfied look at Myka, "Shall we?"

Myka looked at Steve and smiled. "I think it's our turn to buy lunch, right Helena?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an alternate version of Chapter 5, Restraint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - This started as an exercise to get me past my block. A writer's block largely caused by Instinct. It has been very difficult for me to refocus on writing, until my wife suggested I do a smut piece. It actually worked! I married the smartest woman on the planet, and apparently the most understanding, since she humors me with the S.S. Bering & Wells. Anyhow, this is a bit out of my comfort zone, but hell, isn't that what writing is all about?

Myka looked up, her gaze hooded and intent. As her eyes traveled the planes of her lover's body, she couldn't help but appreciate how obedient Helena was being. She had her eyes closed, head reclined against a pillow. Her white teeth were worrying her lower lip with the effort of remaining silent. Her hands were firmly clutching the headboard to keep from seizing Myka in her desire to force her to finish what she'd started. Her hair fanned across the pillow, thick and dark, like the entrance to the abyss.

Closing her own eyes, she returned focus to the task at hand. Pleasuring Helena was always a test of wills. Myka preferred to bring her to the edge, and just before tumbling over, she'd withdraw and shift focus. She'd tease her like this until the other woman either growled, "Fuck me. Now" or roughly grabbed at her, forcing her to finish. It drove Helena to distraction, this teasing. Helena in turn, would do everything to rush Myka to that edge, tumble headlong over, and do it all over again. Her lovemaking reflected how she lived her life, all in and taking no prisoners.

Both had their merits, but instant gratification would have to wait until another day. Myka wanted Helena to need this, to need her. She wanted to see her worn down by denial, built back up by faith, and brought to orgasm by the purity of their love. For love it was, unmitigated, fathomless, and all encompassing.

Attaining Helena's complete and utter surrender is what it would take. Myka was quite serious about this. She had seen the doubt in the others eyes when she made her request for submission. She also hadn't missed the intake of breath and the slight pupil dilatation. As a trained agent, skilled in reading people, she knew Helena would agree.

The sound of panting was coming faster from above her. The creak of the headboard filled the room when slim hands clutched it tighter and she felt muscles contract. Both these signaled to Myka that it was time to ease off. Opening her eyes, her vantage point allowed for an intense examination of Helena's small frame. Her taunt abdominals were like the foothills of a mountain range. All dips and valley's with areas of deep shadow and bands of sharp relief. Soft skin paved the way for the gentle slope of her breasts, peaks held rigid in attention. What lay directly behind them was obscured. However, she had memorized every inch of flesh. She knew it by heart, and worshipped it with gentle kisses and loving touches.

Myka skimmed a hand up the body under her. Traveling over ribs that were expanding quickly in time with labored breathing, and caressing the collarbone she encountered before reaching those lips. Lips that had parted in a silent plea, Helena's look was full of need, strong and pure. She felt her heart contract. It tightened nearly to the point of pain with the realization of the depth of feeling she had for Helena was returned. In this instant, this one perfect moment, all barriers were laid to waste. The depth of their connection bled from pores forced opened by the heat between them, and cascaded back in to fill the parts of their souls that were empty. This must be what all the stories meant when they said, "and they became one."

"You can do this." Myka breathed out. She meant more than simply this moment in time. She meant Helena could do all of this, the giving and receiving of love. Accept that she was good enough for it. And above all, understand that she deserved it.

Needing to show her, Myka slipped back into the warm haven that was Helena. She swirled her tongue around the bundle of nerves once, before dropping further and entering her. Loving this woman was more than she had ever hoped for. Replacing her tongue with fingers, she slowly eased into her.

Helena's back arched from the bed, and thighs clenched around her head briefly, before falling open, allowing full access. Incoherent murmurs were coming from above her.

Moving faster now, she thrust deeper and harder. Taking the other woman's clit into her mouth, she sucked hard as she rapidly flicked her tongue. Curling her fingers slightly, she grazed the rough patch inside Helena. Myka felt the other woman's muscles tighten like steel bands around her fingers as she came.

She waited for the contractions to ease before gently withdrawing her hand. Crawling up the other woman's body, she spooned against her. Helena's head was still tilted backward as she tried to regulate her breathing. Myka teased the beads of sweat around her navel as she waited for Helena to return to earth.

She felt shifting against her, green eyes met brown, "I love you" she whispered and placed a soft kiss on the dark temple.

Tears sparkled in deep brown eyes as Myka witnessed Helena accept her love. Finally accept that she was deserving of it. A smile, large and bright graced her features.

"I know, and I love you, too."


	9. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- This is a short, rambling, word vomit piece. I'm told it's a bit morbid, too. I don't know where it came from, but it's out now, and I wash my hands of it.

Helena felt Myka reach into her chest, worming her fingers past her ribs and wrap her hands around her heart, cradling it. That wet dark thing, beating in time to a cadence only it understands. Full, near to brimming, with the viscose fluid of life; blood pounding through veins swollen to the point of rupture, in order to handle the increase in volume. The rushing tide nearly overtaking her in its fury, leaving her quivering and defenseless in its wake. Only Myka could shelter her during this storm. Only her firm hands tethered her to earth, providing a tangible lifeline to follow back to safety. Myka was her safe place, she wanted to crawl inside her and curl up next to her heart, kept safe and warm by the blanket of her love.

Myka knew that Helena hid behind a veil of sarcastic wit and defended herself with her mastery of language. Masking her pain with walls erected over a lifetime of anguish, solitude, and rage. Her anger was a visceral thing, it was as second nature as breathing, and as fluid as the blood pumping in her veins.

Buried deep in Helena's being, covered and buried away from anything that could harm it, was what she kept from the world. Hidden - no light reaching it and protected by sly wit, silver tongue, and brash ego - was her love. Somewhere along the way she had been broken. Shattered in bits whose fragments were dispersed by the wind and lost in the atmosphere, never having been truly healed. The jagged edges of her pain were sewn together with threads of anger and hate. Only kind hands had found the threads and unwoven them. Skillful fingers plucking at the strands, separating and unraveling them, undoing her. Those same deft fingers locating the pieces of her soul and carefully fitting them back together.

Compartmentalizing was a way Helena learned to deal with matters without actually having to deal with them. Place an item in a box, close the lid, and put it in a location that even she couldn't find if she were to try. Only when her guard was down did any true emotion surface. Only when she lay naked and exposed, everything about her torn asunder, did the boxes open.

Helena knew how she felt about Myka, but like everything else she cared about, she did her best to lock it away. It's only when you have nowhere else to hide, have no means of defense left, are you able to start healing. Finding someone that can understand you, that can accept all that you are is a rare thing. Lucky for Helena the bronze was a just mistress. 100 years of punishment for her sins, a century of imprisonment in a soundless, motionless, silence was time served. Upon her parole, early by some counts, she was given a parting gift. Understanding. Empathy found in warm green eyes, eyes that looked into her heart and saw something worth saving. Saw and chose to eradicate the darkness that plagued her.

Myka felt the moment she breached Helena's walls, the release of years of hate and distrust came tumbling out. The first few tears that trickled down Helena's face soon became a torrent. Holding tightly to the small body, she gently rocked her. While she knew that Helena was broken, she also knew that she was not beyond repair. As long as they stayed true to one another, and put their faith and trust in whatever this was between them, they would heal, together. Myka knew in her soul that they belonged to each other, and she would do everything in her power to make sure Helena believed it, too.


	10. G-spot Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a thing that popped up in some banter on twitter about the infamous g-spot line in Defiance and the subsequent re-naming of H.G.'s middle initial. This one is dedicated to my Warem gals, you know there was no way these three could be in the same room without something happening. Who knows, I might even finish it one day!
> 
> As always, an unedited drabble follows.

"Myka, I'm very experienced with the human female body. Allow me to show you the pleasures that your frail, human, lovers have been unable to provide you." Stahma slowly tilted her head to the side, gauging the response her words invoked in the tall agent.

Confused green eyes regarded her. Myka drew her lower lip into her mouth as she contemplated what the Casti meant, realization dawned in her eyes, "Do you mean the g-spot?"

"Darling, I can assure you, Myka is quite acquainted with the pleasures derived from the g-spot. I do consider myself well… qualified in that area." Purred an accented voice from the doorway of the Need/Want.

Myka allowed a tiny grin to form when she noticed Stahma tense slightly at the time traveler's voice. She could tell being caught off guard was not something Stahma liked.

Violet eyes turned to appraise the interloper. Dragging her gaze from black boots up over the low-slung blaster, past a tiny waist, and on to a chest partially exposed by an open necked white shirt. She found her gaze lingering on the fine bone structure of the human's face, before slowly rising to meet the dark eyes looking back in amusement.

"Like what you see?" H.G. said as she stepped into the alien's space. Reaching out a hand, she slowly dragged a fingertip up her arm. "I know I do."

Myka couldn't help but notice how alike in looks the two women were. It was disconcerting. Of course, Stahma was light in all the places Helena was dark, and the similarities stopped there. Where Helena was brash and assertive, Stahma was cunning and manipulative. Myka felt something coil in her stomach when they both turned to regard her.

"Well, Myka darling, your silence does so injure my pride." She said with a smirk.

"Helena." The curly haired agent groaned. "You know very well your talents are not in question."

Stahma looked between the women and sensing the heat between them, she suddenly found herself saying, "I think I would be interested in learning what your talents are, exactly." A small frown marred her features as she realized what she had said. Rash decisions were not something she was used to.

Helena's smirk morphed into a full grin, "Oh darling, aren't you simply delightful."


	11. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I have always related to H.G. Maybe I can just understand the feelings of anger and futility better than I'd care to dwell on. Either way, here's a short one.
> 
> Enjoy!

Helena G. Wells has been driving for hours. After leaving Boone, she had pointed her car northeast and just drove. Releasing a heavy sigh, her hands gripped the steering wheel harder. Rolling her shoulders she tries to work a kink out of the rhomboid of her left shoulder. It wouldn't do to have her body tense up any further. As she changes lanes to pass an 18-wheeler, her mind drifts back to Boone. 

After months of trying to make herself believe she was happy. After convincing herself that all she needed was to lead a "normal" life, reality had come crashing in. Reality in the form of a devoted man and a beautiful daughter. Helena let out a mirthless chuckle. After decades of plotting and fighting for a way to bring her daughter back to her, she had found Adelaide. Now, here she was voluntarily driving away from a girl who had filled a place in her heart that had been long vacant. Leaving Adelaide had been the second hardest thing she had done in her long, long life. She didn't want to think about the first one. 

One of green eyes full of tears, lips pulled up in an caricature of a smile. A smile that never went further than those full lips. A wave goodbye and of disappearing into the night.

No. 

Stop. 

It would do no good to dwell on the past. Doing that had been one of the reasons she had stumbled down that dark path. A path that had nearly spelled the end of the world. There was no room left in her to allow that darkness to return. She had come too far, allowed herself to start healing and grow. And she HAD grown. She couldn't let things change. 

Looking at the clock on the console, she let out another sigh as the red numbers stared at her mockingly, their eight p.m. like a billboard advertising her failings. Her stomach let out a growl, seeming prompted by the lateness of the hour. Thinking back, she tried to recall when she had last eaten. It must have been sometime after she had crossed into Canada. Giving a mental shrug, she decides it doesn't really matter. She needs to stop. Gas, food, and lodging. What she wouldn't give to sleep in a bed! Catching a wink here and there in the backseat of the car wasn't what she called restful. 

Looking at the GPS, _what a marvelous invention,_ she notices she is at the most southeastern part of Canada, just above New York. The only thing around here were the Falls. Of all the things she has seen in her life-- of all the adventures, of all the endless wonder-- feats of nature always astounded her. Yes, she would play tourist. She would, for a moment, pretend she was like everyone else. This could not end as badly as Nate. It couldn't possibly.


End file.
